Facing the Fire
by AuthorJ
Summary: The dread aspect makes another mad pass through the Twilight Highlands, leaving a warrior with a chip on her shoulder and her less than agreeable partner to make a choice : Fight, or flight? Oneshot


Premia knelt over a hollowed out formation of stone, digging through it with her hands, clad in plate, gazing through the slits in the visor of her helmet as she shifted rubble, dirt and dust aside. She'd found a vein of materials in the earth on a flyby through the Twilight Highlands, and it was rich with reward for her effort. A solid two armfuls of elementium by the time she had scooped it out into one of her bags, and kept in separate, more tightly packed casings, mineralized elements, dubbed as Volatile for their more... well, volatile, nature than other forms they had taken in the past.

"Are you done yet?" a low voice growled behind her. She turned her head with a frown towards a violet drake, lying in boredom on the dried riverbank, digging through soil with his claws, occasionally flicking a stone, be it palm sized or that of her head, across and into one of the dwindling streams of water nearby.

"Watch your tone, Nethrax." She scolded, a notion that would seem insane to most as she hefted the full bag and containers up, walking over to him and beginning to hitch it onto his saddle.

"Your head is about the right size to fit in my jaws." He snarled.

Premia paused, dropping the bag and sliding her visor back, a glow beginning to take to her eyes as a snarl all her own built up in her throat. This was always his warning, this was how she established herself as his superior, and after the way he had fallen under her hand, it only made sense why.

* * *

"_I hope you're ready for this." A night elf beside her spoke in a low voice, loading an arrow into his crossbow as the monkey beside him ground its knuckles into the soil in anticipation._

"_I don't think anyone's as eager as your little chimp there." She said in jest, the faint smirk that played on the elf's lips one of confidence and pride. She couldn't help but return it as she rested her hand upon the handle of her axe. "Annihilate, clear Hyjal of the Twilight Cultists and drakes, simple orders."_

"_Keep that confidence, lass." A dwarf beside her muttered, bearing sword and shield. "These cultist dinnae seem too unsure o' themselves."_

"_When you believe in the end of all living things, there's not a lot left to fear, is there?" a lady gnome garbed in dark robes and a hood responded, running her fingers through the bristled mane of her Fel Hound. "When's the operation start?"_

"_When the other squad locates the brood mother." The hunter responded. "We're just waiting on the-" he paused, squinting hard off into the distance. What was a faint glimmer against an already fiery sky by their eyes was crystal clear to the keen eyes of the elf. "That's the signal flare! Let's go!"_

_A bellowing roar echoed off over the horizon, earning the attention of every cultist below, and most key, every rank of Twilight dragon present, from hatchling to drakonid, turned and made ready to push and see just what had drawn out the fury of the brood mother._

_That was where they and a handful of other squads planted in the ledges above came into play, running interference. The strongest and most capable would face down the scaly bitch responsible for the newest dragonspawn terrorizing Azeroth; they would ensure they could have their little tango in peace. Levitation spells, parachutes and flying mounts filled the air as those who could handle magic, the elements, or simple projectile weaponry began to snipe from the safety of ledges. The hunter had already lodged three bolts into the bodies of three cultists, and with one right through the forehead by the looks of things. They would cover the slower descent of the others._

_Premia had other plans as a glow began to wrap around her, crouching low, placing one hand to the ground, she shuddered and convulsed as her bones began to shift and pop, a pain that was not so painful anymore, her pores filling and growing out a fine coat of fur as her face elongated, a deep snarl building in her throat before energy seemed to tear out around her, a loud howl echoing out over the mountain as she took her worgen shape. Breaking into a mad sprint towards the ledge, she leapt, and began to plummet towards the ground far below._

"_Are ye daft?" she heard the dwarf that had been beside her a moment ago holler as he parachuted. She had no reason to deny it, perhaps she was. She let the thrill of plummeting build the fire coursing through her veins, clutching her axe and whipping it out from her back as she guided herself. She was little more than perhaps a two hundred-something pound bullet at the moment, wrapped in plate as she was._

_As she caught her target in one of the drakonids, she began to allow her mind to take a backseat to the instincts that came with her new form. The battle they had just begun would require every bit of merciless ferocity she could muster, with confidence she could stop herself before turning on any allies. As she drew closer and closer, and the mountain wall did the same against the path of her descent, she made a quick, instantaneous contact with her feet against the side of it and bounded off, redirecting the neck-breaking velocity she had picked up as she slammed dead into the drakonids back, digging one of her glowing spaulders into it, the speed of the blunt force tearing through the thick scaly hide and causing the back to twist around from the one side that she had hit from. A snap was audible as she blew by and slammed her feet on the ground, skidding to a halt._

_The drakonid, spun completely around at the waist, dropped dead in a heap from that insane gamble._

_She wasted no time, spinning about as a cultist closed in on her. Heaving her axe up and swinging from the ground, it tore through his chest, stalling him in agony as blood half poured and half sprayed from his new wound. She finished the rotation, greeting him with the flat side of her weapon and batting him into the air, not far, only a few yards until he bounced and rolled over the ground, right over the nearby ledge._

_Another from the side. Her claws took care of that this time as she ripped his throat out with a well-placed slash._

_A punch square to the jaw of a smaller drakonid preparing to cast a spell._

_It all devolved into a haze. Sooner than later time had lost meaning to her. Rip, tear, slash, bite, claw, her instincts were doing their job all too well._

"_PREMIA!"_

_She snapped to attention, her eyes wide as she sat crouched over a cultist, whose face had been sheered deep by her claws. Her chest heaved with exertion. With the urgency which she'd been called to her senses, she'd thought for a moment she had berserked too far._

_It was as she watched a bolt fly by her head and heard a bellowing roar that she learned they had instead saved her life._

_She spun on a heel, finding her axe still clutched in her other hand as she watched a Twilight Drake claw at an arrow lodged in its tail, breaking it off in its efforts and leaving it stuck in. This one was on the cusp of adolescence, barely of age to bear a rider, more than certainly capable of killing and hunting._

_In its eyes, though, she saw something unlike anything she'd seen in the eyes of the other drakes she had slain up to that day._

"_Premia, get back!" the hunter barked alongside several shrill cries from the monkey at his side. Another bolt flew by, this one charged with arcane energy. The dragon reared its head back, and from its maw poured flames of violet, red, orange, black and white, all the colors for what it was named. The arrow was engulfed and the drake turned its attention to the elf._

"_Hold!" she barked, gesturing to him before crouching low before springing into the air, grasping at the elbow of one of the drake's arms and hauling herself up before it could manage to fling her off or take swing at her armor with those razor-like claws. Fixing her weapon to her back in its holster, she scrambled up its neck, digging into its scaly hide with the claws and nails on her hands and feet before leaping and slamming down on its head, the plate clanking hard against spikes and bone plates that provided an armor-like protection for the beast. She wrapped an arm around, digging her claws into the flesh under its jaw and earning a wail of pain from it before she reared her fist back, half hanging off of it as one leg dangled in the air now, and slammed it into the side of its face. Another cry, and it began to lose its balance. Another strike followed, and it was lost completely. The Twilight drake careened to the ground, and it was all that Premia could do to keep her hold until it was close to the ground. Half leaping, half tossing herself, she flew on her own the last several feet onto the flat, the wind rushing from her lungs as she rolled, her pain drowned out by the thundering crash as the dragon barreled into cultist devices, tents and tables, tipping over papers, plans and chemicals, some of which burst into flames as they crashed down._

_She felt a warmth wash over her as she began to rise to her feet, looking to a Dwarvish paladin granting her blessings of healing and protection, as the other warrior from her squad approached._

"_Ye be insane, ye fight as possessed, throw yerself offa cliffs, an' now wrestle dragons?"_

"_You should see what I do when I'm at work." She said, sucking in air as she began towards the drake, whipping her axe from her back and ignoring the dumbstruck expression of the stout warrior. _

Of course, if I really did do anything crazier than this I'd be dead already._ She thought, closing in on the drake as it shifted, turning its eyes to her. She gazed into them again, studying them intently before she made a gesture with her hand, calling her squad over._

"_What now?" the Dwarf muttered, put off by her earlier remark no doubt._

"_Look into its eyes." She said. "What do you see?"_

"_You would have us examine the eyes of a monster as this?" the hunter muttered, kneeling down._

"_Just humor me."_

_They stood in silence a moment, each getting their chance as the drake scanned all of them. It made no moves. In fact, it actually seemed to _recede_ somewhat._

"_Fear?" the warlock muttered, folding her arms curiously. "Runt of the litter, huh?"_

"_Great, let's put th' sorry lizard outta our misery." The other warrior muttered, only to be halted as Premia shot a hand out. "D' ya intend on steppin' on me toes at EVERY damned turn?"_

"_Don't tempt me to get literal." She muttered, stepping forward herself and kneeling before it. She removed her helmet, a risky move, no doubt. If this beast decided to snap, half of her head would be gone in an instant, if she was lucky to get away with that much. "Can you speak?"_

_Silence._

_She narrowed her eyes. "I'm more than certain you can understand me at least. Can. You. Speak?"_

"_... Yes." The drake hissed._

"_What do you know of the Twilight's Hammers work?"_

_Silence again. Premia stepped forward, crouching before it and narrowing her eyes. "What do you know?"_

"_Nothing!" it snapped, whipping its head up and bringing it in close to the worgen woman's own. "I was raised and trained in preparation to serve our greatfather's cause, these sniveling cultist worms you've slaughtered amidst my kin are no more than a means to an end!"_

"_Nothing we didn't know already with that." The warlock muttered, leaning on her staff as she looked up to the others. They seemed in clear agreement on that fact._

"_What have you done in aid of Deathwing's goals?" Premia inquired. Once more, silence, but this time there was a new feature to it. She watched the drake actually recoil from her, averting its eyes to the ground._

"_I said-"_

"_I heard you, mongrel!" it snapped, its claws digging into the mountain stone beneath it, crumbling it to pebbles and dust. "I've not even seen Greatfather Deathwing since I was a whelp. Mother has been overseeing our training to serve him... I was to take my first flight into battle come week's end, until you vermin came along." Its eyes widened. "Mother... What have you done with my mother?"_

_This took Premia aback somewhat, and called to some deeper emotions settled within her. She squeezed her eyes shut, beginning to assail emotion with logic, to quell the pain. What happened here had to be done for the safety of Azeroth. What happened back in Stormwind was a prime example of why what they did had to be done._

"_She's dead." The hunter beside her said coldly, setting an arrow in his bow and drawing the string back. "You'll be joining her."_

_Before anyone knew it, the hunter's bow went flying, and Premia was dead in his face, her narrowed eyes now set on him._

"_You _are_ mad." He said, the monkey at his side giving a threatening growl as its tail whipped wildly about._

"_**Thank**__ ye!" the dwarf warrior said._

"_This one has committed no sin as of yet." She said flatly, unfazed by the remarks. "And I'm intrigued by it."_

"_Study its corpse then. This thing is an abomination, a perverse twist upon the dragon flights that have been part of Azeroth since ancient days." The kal'dorei hunter muttered, his tone sharper now. "It is twisted by experimentations and ill-used magic and ought to be eradicated."_

"_You mean like the worgen?" she countered, a dark grin curling back over her lips, unveiling the fangs that had replaced her teeth. "You mean like the humans of Gilneas who became victims of the very curse I bear because one ignorant fool decided to keep a town of man-wolves and call them his 'children'?"_

"_There are differences between deluded fools who seclude themselves in tower keeps and towns and mad aspects hell bent on razing Azeroth to cinders and ash!"_

"_We're not talking about what created them, we're talking about the ones who didn't have a _choice_ because of them!" she barked in his face, silencing him. She still felt fire in her veins, but for the interests of all, did her best to quell it. "Whether of the first generation of that brood mother's clutch or twisted from another flight's own it did not ask to be born into the world in this manner, the same way that Genn Greymane and his people did not ask for the curse to afflict their people and turn them into this!"_

_There was an almost staggering silence after this. The Night Elf had fallen silent, gazing her straight in the eyes as the others, both from their squad and others involved, watched, waiting for what would come of her outburst. After a moment, he raised a hand and jabbed a finger into her shoulder plate._

"_Know that if your little game backfires, this drake will perish on the spot, and you will pay in full for whatever damage it causes, however much or what it takes."_

_Premia turned her gaze over the shoulder to the Twilight drake, gazing at it in silence a moment, before looking ahead._

"_I'll stake my own life on it."  


* * *

_  
So she had. Nethrax had been removed from the mountain with her via a portal, and a large one at that. She was about certain the mage that had created it nearly passed out as the drake made its way through. A slight alteration, both requested and clearly called for, had settled them outside of Ironforge.

Right where they immediately engaged each other.

What the drake had in power, however, Premia more than made up for in practiced skill with her weapon. She made good the point to literally beat it into the drake that a fight with her would not be one it would flap away from, and that he lived by her good graces.

It was what, again, had Nethrax submit with a growl as he turned his head away.

"I thought so." She said flatly, grasping the bag of ore and again preparing to fix it to her mount's saddle. There was silence between them after that, as Premia finished tying off the bag to the saddle and slid back up into it. She grasped at the reins, improvised into a collar fit around his neck, pulling back against the foremost spike, than a bit in the mouth, and prepared to take off.

It was right then that an explosion tore through the air, and both of their heads snapped up, eyes wide at what they beheld.

The sky began to shift from its evening hue to a fiery, hate filled red.

The bellow of an inhuman creature, a sound beyond rage, beyond agony, echoed through the whole of the Twilight Highlands.

Flames began to lick up to impossible heights beyond the horizon as a dark silhouette could be seen among them, growing larger and larger off in the distance, the sheer heat already starting to be felt where they were so many miles off.

The Aspect of Death had come; once again, Premia beheld Deathwing in all of his glorious horror.

"Greatfather..." Nethrax muttered all too audibly, his words snapping her from a brief stupor. This wasn't so unrealistic. Deathwing had been reported to have been making rounds, blackening the earth with his flames all over Azeroth. There was no rhyme or reason, the mad aspect was just acting to his nature now, chaos unbound by any more than its own whims and desires.

"We're going!" Premia ordered. It seemed to be all that the drake needed to hear as it took off, turning tail and beginning to make way towards the sea...

A sharp yank on the reins spun them both around, nearly throwing the warrior off.

"W, what are you doing, woman?" Nethrax demanded, flying in place.

"I didn't say 'run', did I?" she snapped, thrusting a finger in the direction of the black dragon lord. "Fly at that!"

"Are you absolutely out of your mind?" he bellowed in sheer and utter disbelief. "Do you know what will happen to us just getting close to the flames of the greatfather?"

"I know what _could_ happen, but if no one can even get close than this will only continue on forever until he's won!"

"Then get one of those damned birds to fly you over, I'm not having my hide charred black!"

"Do you expect one to keep up with that speed?" She turned her head back, watching the aspect. He was clearing land at a remarkable pace. It was no wonder why he left trails through such massive stretches, and was gone within but a moment or two. "Look, do this for me and it's the last thing I'll ever ask of you, you're free!"

"... What?" the drake said in utter disbelief, his head craning about and gazing onto Premia in utter disbelief.

If she had been aware of her own expression at the time, she'd have known the look of desperation joining amongst rage, sorrow and dead set determination.

She knew what she was doing was as good as suicide alone, but something had to be done.

"... Very well." The drake said, spinning about. "This is our last flight together!"

"Thank you..." Premia murmured softly, gripping onto the reins with one hand as she drew a black sword from its place at her hip, nearly as large as she, clutching it in one hand as Nethrax tore off through the skies.

The flight was at a feverish pace, unlike any she'd known the drake to be capable of before. For its breeding, she couldn't deny his wings beat as true as any of the flights his origin lay. Even so, Deathwing was a fully matured dragon, the monarch of his flight, and an aspect bearing powers bestowed by the ancient Titans. If not for that they were already many miles ahead of the demon dragon, then a successful pursuit would not even be fathomable. They veered up and high, well over head, as they began to close in, ensuring they were out of their target's line of sight.

"... You truly desire this?" Nethrax muttered as he hovered in place. Premia sat sidesaddle now, a hand clutching onto it as the other as she waited. Only a moment longer.

"... We've spoken before, Nethrax." She said solemnly. "You know what lies in my heart."

"I do, but this is madness regardless." He responded evenly.

Premia smiled a sour smile in response. "I'm a mad woman... and I'll only grow worse if I don't act now."

"The Titans help us all were that to happen." He quipped in a rare bout of humor, that actually earned a chuckle from the woman on his back.

"Do what you will from now on, Nethrax... I only ask that you not return to the folly of the rest of your kin."

"And what reason do I have to obey that order?"

Premia shifted, readying herself.

"It would be a shame for you to die so young."

Without another word, she was off, sprung off his back as she dove head first. She had one shot at this, and had to make it count. If she failed, even the muddy river bank below at this height would leave her little more than a pulpy mess inside of ruined plate armor. She began to growl as energy built around her, the same shift she always made into her Worgen state. The sighting was good, the angle was right, and even with the push of heat so stifling she had to fight to breath, her trajectory was true.

She erupted in a fiery light as the transformation completed, and she blew through the air, utilizing a burst of energy from it as she took her sword in both hands and came down. She landed, and sank her weapon into what flesh she could find aside the elementium plates that hissed with heat, catching it between two massive, charred scales of the black dragon, and holding strong, a testament to his strength, and to just how armored his hide already had been before this horrific shift in his appearance.

One thing she had failed to account for, however, as the paws now making up her feet settled on his flesh, was the heat coursing through them. So taken by surprise was she that she erupted in a howl of pain just from the contact. It burned worse than fire of any demon or warlock or mage. She could only imagine what it would mean to cut.

She assumed she'd not have long as the titanic reptile's head turned, mad eyes gazing at her.

She froze again, briefly, before gathering herself, steeling herself against fear as she ripped the blade from his flesh, barely chipping the scales, and now bracing herself against wind that tore past her and threatened to throw her off.

"Deathwing!" she bellowed in fury and pain. "I have business with you!"

"Do you now?" he rumbled calmly, before his eyes widened, some of his madness leaking through his tone. "I have no time for fleas at my back, however!"

"Make time!" she bellowed, beginning to sprint up his back towards his neck, dragging her sword along his hide, leaving a trail of sparks as she ran. Every step was agonizing, but the pain was nothing to that of the thought of doing nothing. As she reached the nape of his gargantuan neck, she ducked low and sprung forward, drawing her weapon back and thrusting ahead.

She froze suddenly, her body seeming to lock as she collapsed atop him, lying against one of his towering horns. He'd done something, she didn't know what, but something.

"Imbecile!" he snapped at her, so loud her ears rang, his voice echoing not only in her ears, but in her mind. "If you seek death for anyone today, it is yourself!"

Before she knew it, his head dipped before whipping back, tossing her into the air over him. She began to regain her composure, and managed to wrap a hand around the tip of one of his horns. She grit her teeth, attempting to pull herself forward and wrap her arm around the horn. She hadn't lost yet, if she could just make her way down, she'd be right in his face, and then she could...

She heard a breath, looking down as her train of thought shifted. Flames were licking out from around his maw. He was preparing another blast. This one, however, she watched as he closed his eyes for.

Flame washed over his head, and rose higher, and higher, until a wall of it crashed into her. She held for a few seconds before her strength gave way to a world of pain. Her grip slackened, and released, her armor heated so that it glowed an even more fiery red than it was forged to bear.

She slipped past his body, and began her descent to the river bank below.

The woman was insane; it was all Nethrax could manage to believe. He'd seen her compared to the other members of the empire that bore the name of his flight, all of them were of remarkable strengths. Knowledge, benevolence, physical strength and stamina, magical skills, the diversity among their group made them a force to be reckoned with.

For this woman, hers was her utter forwardness in everything. If ever she seemed to lie to anyone, it was more herself than others. As he watched her plummet below and shift shape, Nethrax knew she was doing exactly what she wanted, no obligation in mind to the people of Azeroth or others. She was doing this for herself.  
_She wants to kill Greatfather Deathwing..._ Nethrax thought, finding himself beginning to fly ahead as hard as he could, the only way he could keep pace as the Aspect of Death continued to gain ground. He could hear the howl of pain she loosed, unsure of why, and unconcerned, largely. _I don't get this woman.  


* * *

_

"_You intend to keep me as a pet?" Nethrax bellowed, charging her as he hopped off the ground and beat his wings, propelling himself as a several hundred pound battering ram. He slammed into her, driving her into a cavern wall, and dug his claws down, feeling her hands press against him. Her strength was remarkable for a little mortal as she, holding him back from crushing her, but a little more of his actual strength behind it would end it, and he would be free. "You will pay for your insolence, for your crime against my kin!"_

"_I'd like to see you try that!" she growled. Before he knew it, he heard a rush, and felt claws dig into his hide, his eyes widening as he recoiled just slightly from surprise. Enough to let her slip away as she leapt up and over him, kicking off the rocks behind her and onto his back._

_He turned, inhaling and unleashing his flame at her as she touched down, liquefying the very ground it washed over just before it reached her after a scant few seconds. He'd push her back in retreat and crush her, broil her alive in her armor and then devour her, a well cooked meal before he pushed northeast to the Twilight Highlands to report of the fall of his mother at Mount Hyjal. It would be so easy to crush this fleshling with her weapon sitting out of her reach._

_In spite of all good sense, he watched her come at him. Not around the flames, but _through_ them, her fur and mane catching fire in several places before she came up underneath his jaw, swinging hard with her first. He could swear he tasted her gauntlet as it hit between the jawbone and slammed his mouth shut._

"_How does the fire taste?" she hissed, in clear pain, but in greater fury. He was disoriented and dazed. Before he knew it, she had a hold of his head and slammed it to the ground. Painful, not hardly, but his vision jumped regardless. He felt her foot paw push onto his throat behind the jaw as she drew a shotgun out, placing it right next to his eye._

"_I'm no marksman or huntress, but I'm fairly certain at this angle I can penetrate into that pea brain of yours and bleed it out onto the cavern floor." She said. Her threat was real, and he lay there, feeling fear for his life once again._

_He cursed himself every time for it._

"_Understand something, I saved your life. Do you know why?"_

"_To degrade me and use me as lowlife pet?" he snapped, quite open with his opinion._

"_Oh, I'm going to make use of you." She said frankly, pulling the hammer back on her weapon. He flinched at the noise, knowing what it meant. He knew she saw it._

"_... But you value your life."_

"_M, my life is for the Greatfather's cause!"_

"_But you're not willing to die for it, are you?" she muttered._

_He couldn't muster a response._

"_Do you know what will happen to the rest of your brood if they don't comply and surrender, right? What will happen if they keep on with this mad bid for power in Deathwing's name? They'll be wiped out without mercy or forethought. Any drake bearing the blood of the Twilight dragon flight will be. Erased. The blacks already face such a fate."_

"_You lie!" he snapped, his own anger building to a point he pushed up, causing Premia to stagger back off of him as he pulled to his feet. Yet he did not attack, not for the weapon trained on him, but for the point standing in his mind. "Greatfather Deathwing will create a perfect world where we will rule, and you mortals and other inferior stock will amount to so much ash!"_

"_Deathwing will _**fall**_!" she bellowed in response. "Or in your short life have you not heard of Malygos, once the keeper of all magic on Azeroth?"_

"_Of course I've heard of that fool! I know of the Nexus War, I know of his aspirations and why he failed! He was weak and of feeble mind!"_

"_He was insane as your 'greatfather' and fell to the Horde and Alliance's efforts the same as Deathwing will!"_

"_Just as my mother did then? To the combined efforts of cowards who slaughter and kill unsuspecting mothers and their children?"_

_Almost immediately the folly of his words became apparent as his world rocked. His head twisted as a snap echoed through the cavern, though from what source he could not tell. He found hands grasping his top lip at either side of his maw and pulling him down with such force it was frightening._

_He stared into the eyes of the embodiment of rage like he'd never seen in his life._

"_DO NOT SPEAK TO ME OF FAMILY STOLEN IN BLOOD!" she roared, so furiously he expected another strike. "Do not speak to me of the sins of the mortal races when we acted to prevent you from laying waste to another village or city, of stripping more mothers of their children, of more daughters of their parents! Challenge me on this and I assure you that you will certainly lose more than an argument!"_

_Silence rung between them for a long moment after that, either one staring into each others eyes. The worgen woman's chest heaved with exertion, but Nethrax knew well that she could continue. He opted to wait._

"_... You are without a mother... and I am without children." She said, her tone subdued as she eased her grip, before completely loosing it, wiping his saliva off on her tabard. "I did not bring you here, however, to compensate for the lost of mine, or act in place of yours. That fear in your eyes is not a sign of cowardice, either. It is a sign of value that I've seen little of in the eyes of my opponents stemming from your brood, a display that you value your life instead of blindly looking to throw it away for a 'cause'."_

"_... And what of yourself?" he muttered, his tone subdued._

"_... I follow a cause, but not with blind zeal or faith in it. Rather, mine is in the people who I am with, and who we seek to reach out to." She turned, beginning to walk away, gesturing to a wooden crate on the floor as she knelt down, grasping onto half of her shotgun, what Nethrax now realized was the source of the snap and the ache in his face._

"_You will simply leave me here?"_

"_You have meat in the crate, I suggest you eat before it spoils." She said flatly, emotionlessly. "I will return tomorrow. Make your decision by then. What I seek to give you is a chance, and I will force nothing on you. What good would you be to me if I forced you to fly beneath me, only for you to throw me off one day?" She stopped at the mouth of the cave, stepping into a snow drift outside as she gazed on him, the glow in her eyes soft, but fierce. "Know this though. If you decide to leave and rejoin the Twilight's Hammer, your dragon flight, and Deathwing's cause, I will spare you no mercy when we meet in battle."_

_Nethrax stood quietly, watching her turn and walk away, out of sight of the cavern mouth. He thought over her words in silence for several moments, listening to the howl of winter winds outside before turning and walking to the crate. He noted damage to it, cracks and splinters in the wood, thinking a moment before recalling that she had been bringing him this before he'd rushed her initially._

_He sniffed hard and began to pry it open for his dinner.  
_

_

* * *

_

Fierce as any of his own flight, and with the heart of a mother beneath it all, that was the best he could surmise her. She was brash and impatient, and minced words with no one or thing, as proof as he watched her charge up Deathwing's back.

_I'm free now._ He said, now straggling a bit behind the aspect and his unwelcome company. _I can do whatever I want, and leave this woman to handle this alone. I can return to my flight..._

His eyes widened as he watched her suddenly drop flat on his head.

_Free to make whatever choice I want..._

She was thrown. He found himself releasing a held breath as she caught onto one of his horns, feeling relief for the faintest of instances before he saw fire not a moment later, washing over his head and slamming into Premia. The plated figure began to plummet to certain death.

_... Even this...!_ he thought, half cursing himself as he turned sharply down. It would be a race, he'd have to push to the very limits of his power and speed, but if he was to save the woman who had saved him, he could do no less than his best.

The ground drew ever nearer with each passing second. He propelled himself far faster than she with each wing beat, but would it be enough? The distance may yet be too great, he may fall just short.

_The only option I've got is... Damn it, I don't have a choice!_

He closed his wings and went into a spin, dive bombing at her. One shot, if he missed, he would be severely injured, and she would die. He ran almost straight down, outracing her towards the ground as he watched it draw closer and closer. At the absolute last second, he spread his wings wide and veered up sharply, feeling the intense pull of gravity on his frame as his claws dragged trenches through the mud and sprayed water high into the air. He flipped about, his flight ceased as Premia was within reach, and he snatched her out of the air, slamming down into the mire of mud and water, drawing a new path for the dwindling waters with his back. He skidded along for what seemed like forever, clutching the worgen woman close to his body. It finally stopped as he slammed into something harder than he, grunting hard and taking a moment to catch his breath.

Nethrax gazed over his shoulder, seeing the outlet to the see behind him, and one of the boulders that split them off from each other.

The Twilight drake turned and looked to the worgen woman, unconscious in his grip, whether from injuries or the intensity behind the drop.

"You're rubbing off on me, you insane bitch..." he muttered.

* * *

"I still can't believe you did that." Premia muttered some days later, sitting atop the great wall barricading Stormwind from the outlying Elwynn Forest. For some reason, after just being allowed back in the city, she felt like talking about that day. "You're insane, you know that?"

"I've so far had a good mentor." Nethrax remarked with a chuckle.

"Seems that way." She said, running a hand through her blonde hair, her helmet resting beside her. "Why though?"

"You ask now?"

"We have been a bit busy lately, you know." She said frankly.

Nethrax was silent, gazing down into the waters in the Valley of Heroes below, saying nothing for a long few moments.

Premia could only smirk and shut her eyes. "Don't tell me you-"

"I am free now." He said frankly, turning his eyes to her. "I bear no allegiances to any cause other than my own."

"... And?" Premia responded, intrigued.

"... As of now, I could use a companion."

Premia smiled, reaching up and giving the drake a rub at the elbow.

"Now, you owe me an answer." He said, shifting his gaze out the corner of his eye to her.

"What would that be, Nethrax?"

"What did you do with that ore?"

Premia smiled broadly, rising to her feet as Nethrax did the same. He lowered himself down, allowing her to hoist herself up into his saddle, grasping onto his reins with one hand, as another rested in a moment in her bags, tracing over a small object wrapped delicately in mageweave cloth.

"It's a secret." She said as he stepped off, giving a dismissive huff as he took to the sky.


End file.
